‘Who lived there?’
Rat man grunted, Alex said nothing, so she asked again.
‘That house, where you were going to torture me, who lived there?’
‘Have you ever heard of witness protection?’
Had she? It was amazing! You got to, like, invent a whole new you, and have no history, and become anyone you liked. She’d seen it on some program a couple of years ago, and spent months wishing she and mum could see something really bad and get whisked away by men in black people carriers.
‘Yeah, I’ve heard of it.’
‘We have something similar, in the magical world. People who know too much, or see too much, they get moved, relocated to a new place, a new country.’
‘So what did they see?’
‘I don’t know. Only that the house was available for short stays. Word travels fast.’
From his silence, she assumed he’d had enough of talking about it. They were walking through an estate, nicer than home, and soon emerged onto a street of shops. The tube station said East Finchley, on the Northern Line, and they went back past Camden Town as they headed into central London.
Rat man was stood, both hands wrapped around the pole beside her seat, and every time she glanced up at him, he was staring down at her with a smile. She wanted to tell him to go away, but she caught a glimpse of the knife, stuffed beneath his jacket and instead she read the adverts opposite.
Hair loss. Hair loss and holidays. The world was a different place now. She wondered if there’d be a time she didn’t feel scared, or cold. Alex was also lost in his thoughts, still playing with his phone, though it was more likely to be Angry Birds than anything important.
They got off at Leicester Square, Alex once again muttering under his breath as they passed through the barriers, them opening and closing without an Oyster in sight. That was a trick she needed to learn. The spell book was tucked inside her jacket pocket. The cover had got wet, but it was leather and thick, and the short inspection she’d done in the bedroom had shown that all the pages were intact, and readable.
They walked through the crowds, The Square still busy, despite the late hour. She had no idea what time it was, only that her feet ached and her bed was rapidly becoming a mythic and wondrous vision she couldn’t imagine ever getting back into. Alex was striding ahead and she hurried to catch up.
‘So, you do spells without ingredients. Are there that many that don’t use them?’
He glanced down at her, one eyebrow raised, and shrugged. ‘Some do, some don’t. It’s about being prepared.’ He pulled his long jacket open and, neatly sewn in the lining, were stacks of small pockets. From some poked small bags, some plastic and others material. He looked at her again as he pulled it closed.
‘I keep myself stocked up with the basics. You get used to certain spells, stuff you remember easily, and then you get used to knowing what ingredients you use the most. It’s simple, really, just takes practice.’
He paused, taking the corner out of Leicester Square to the right and heading down toward Trafalgar. Scarlet knew this bit well. Dad had loved it here, before he went, and they used to come in and just wander about. She’d had ice cream, sometimes.
‘How long have you been learning?’
She shook her head, blinking away the memories. ‘Um, about six weeks. I’ve been to hell though.’
She wasn’t sure why she said it, maybe to show Alex she wasn’t as entirely green as she seemed. The American was looking at her, eyebrow raised. ‘Did you like it?’
She shrugged. ‘Meh, it was alright. Weather was a bit crappy, not as bad as here though.’
Alex nodded, a smile creasing his face. ‘Well, you’ve been to hell, met the sisters. That’s more than most magic users will boast in a lifetime. What next?’
She laughed, shaking her head. ‘Find Martin, go to bed, never get out of it.’
He nodded, mock serious. ‘A good plan. Though I have my doubts that the universe will allow you such a simple life.’
She groaned, shaking her head. They walked down the steps into Trafalgar Square, and approached the toilets beneath the huge frontage of the National Portrait Gallery. They were heading for the mens and she slowed. Rat man was right behind and poked her in the back. ‘Don’t worry yourself, luv, there’s plenty odder folks ‘round ‘ere seen.’
She hesitated at the entrance, and Alex took her arm. His grip was still like iron and the smile was gone from his eyes as he dragged her in. A couple of the men within glared at her, zipping up and hurrying out. Alex pulled her to the cubicle furthest of the right and stepped in, rat man coming in behind.
The back of the toilet contained a tall, narrow steel door. Alex rested his hand against it, muttering again. She watched his coat and spotted a small trickle of smoke emerge from the neck line. The door opened inward to reveal a tunnel.
Once more with going underground. There was a distinct lack of originality in the magic world, like all of them had watched the same cheesy movies, or read the same books. Alex had ducked sideways and slipped into the tunnel. Rat man prodded her and she followed, stepping into the darkness.
The tunnel widened, the ceiling rising sharply into the gloom. Light was squeezing its way in from somewhere and she could see the walls, old cracked concrete, dry and covered in spiderwebs. She shivered, hurrying on, hearing only the footsteps of the men in front and behind her.
She relaxed her eyes as they walked, the ground, even beneath her, and the green light flickered back into life. It was quicker, and easier this time, and the first thing she spotted was Alex’s outline before her, strong and like some cool night-vision thing.
Beyond him, a green wall filled the end of the tunnel, growing brighter with every step. This had to be the Council. She hadn’t realised how badly she wanted to find out what, or who, they were, until she saw the light, and picked up her pace.
She blinked the green away, relieved to slip back into the peace of the dark. They walked for another few minutes, and the walls went the same way as the ceiling, vanishing into the darkness. She was left with the feeling of space, a huge space. She could see little aside from the floor, but the air was cooler, and the sounds of their feet were lost in the dark.
A mutter from Alex, and Scarlet gasped as a light exploded into life on his hand. They stood before a replica of the museum above them, huge columns rising into the gloom high above, a pair of massive wooden doors, many times her height, standing triumphant at the top of a set of steps. It was totally over the top, totally ‘whose dick is bigger’, but she couldn’t help being impressed.
She was about to step forward, when something occurred to her, something she couldn’t believe she’d missed. She turned to Alex, realising he was standing just behind her, side by side with Rat man. ‘You were looking for something, at Martin’s, not just him but something else, books or something.’
Both men looked at one another, grins flitting across their faces. ‘What were you looking for?’
Alex shook his head, looking sad. ‘I’m sorry, Joanna, we haven’t been entirely honest with you.’ His hand shot out, grabbing her arm. ‘We are looking for Martin, and we are employed by him. Thing is, we’re employed by someone else, too.’
She swore, and kicked out, her foot striking Rat man on the shin. His hand slammed into her face and she was thrown sideways, Alex’s grip the only thing stopping her from falling. It felt like someone had driven a car into her cheek, and she whimpered, hand clutching at it, then dropping away.
They were still smiling. ‘You see, we’re pretty certain that Martin is dead by now, so we don’t get paid. But we need to find out, just to be sure. We also need to know whether the Council have retrieved the minutes. So…’
He pulled her up the steps until they stood in front of the massive doors. He brought his face close to hers, his breath hot on her cheek. ‘So, you’re going to be our scout. Go in, see what happens, and we’ll be watching.’
He yanked open the left door, and shoved her through, slamming it behind her.
Next Installment Friday 13th December
